


Binding

by Sophisticated_Adult



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Sparkbonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 06:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophisticated_Adult/pseuds/Sophisticated_Adult
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galvatron's never been good at letting go, and he isn't about to start now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Binding

“Prime!”

Galvatron's challenge roared across the battlefield, followed by three quick shots in rapid succession. He was aiming for Rodimus' shoulder; the Prime had his back turned, and Galvatron wanted him to topple forward so he could pounce. Rodimus turned at his shout, and Galvatron would remember the surprise in his blue optics for a long time as the shots impacted across his chest instead.

The young Prime gave a cry, stumbled back, and then dropped like a stone.

All around the battle suddenly faltered as the Autobots felt _something_ , something Galvatron didn't share, but a sudden shock across his systems when Rodimus failed to rise gave him an awful suspicion. Several Autobots broke away from their Decepticon opponents, trying to reach their fallen Prime, and that was unacceptable.

“He's mine!” He surged forward, breaking into a run and shoving aside someone too slow or stupid to get out of his way, heedless of which side they were on. The battle had now completely stopped as both sides watched their leaders. The Autobots felt a keening, growing loss in their sparks – _to lose another Prime again, so soon!_ \- and no Decepticon wanted to earn Galvatron's wrath by interrupting his obsession with the Autobot Prime. Instead, they stood by as he skidded to a stop, fell to his knees and roughly grabbed Rodimus' shoulder, pulling him up.

“Prime!” He snarled. “Get up!”

“Hi.” Rodimus gave a soft smile, optics hazy, ignoring the warnings screeching across his system as Galvatron filled his vision. “Good shooting. I think you got me.”

“It was an accident!”

“Oh, good.” A weak chuckle, and perhaps genuine relief? “You know, I never actually thought you'd kill me.”

“I did not!” Galvatron roared in denial. “Get up and fight me, Rodimus! I'm not finished with you yet!”

“Sorry...” Rodimus tilted his head back, staring up at the sky. It was an endless blue, a glorious summer's day on a planet he'd never heard of until this morning. It wasn't Earth, but it was a good substitute. “At least it's sunny.”

Talking clearly wasn't going to work. Forcing down any panic – he did _not_ panic, he was _Galvatron_ – he ran through his options. One hand went to Rodimus' chest, where those cursed shots had done their work all too well. This close he could feel the Prime's spark, no longer powerful and steady but flickering. The Matrix was pulsing wildly and Galvatron couldn't feel the part of it that was Rodimus underneath. The part that he was interested in, the part that he knew so well. It was already fading. With a snarl he ripped open the flame-painted chest, not caring for Rodimus' scream as he inspected the damage he'd unintentionally caused to the now-exposed sparkchamber.

Too much. They had been very lucky shots. One had caught a weakness in the armour, a seam that hadn't been dealt with properly by whatever damned medic had sent him out to the battlefield with an all-clear. The next had followed right after, and finished what had been started.

No. He would not allow this. He was Galvatron, and he was going to rule the Universe.

“What are you...” Rodimus looked back at him at the _click_ of chestplates pulling apart and his optics widened when he saw Galvatron's spark shining in front of him. “You can't!”

“Shut up,” he replied as he straddled the Prime and pushed their sparks together.

The pain was tremendous. Rodimus screamed and instantly offlined. Galvatron held on, roaring in defiance at the brilliant light that flared up, filled the world, crashed through him. A solid wall of white light – the Matrix, the damned Matrix – was trying to keep him out, trying to fight off the Unicronian energy surging through the connection.

“Rodimus!” He screamed, ignoring the Matrix as best he could, trying to fight past it to get at that fading spark. “Get back here!”

With a sudden, jarring transition of light to dark, he was through. Galvatron stumbled forward, released from the crackling energy of the Matrix. Anything he found now would be his Prime.

He broke into a run, leaving the humming power of the ancient artifact far behid. It held no interest for him.

It took less time than he'd feared to finally find what he'd come for. Rodimus was a fair distance in front of him, purposefully walking towards his fate with his head proudly raised. Galvatron gathered his energy and accelerated, finally crashing into the retreating figure with a wordless shout that was as much a greeting as it was a challenge. Rodimus cried out as they both toppled over, twisting around in his grip to face him.

“What the slag are you doing!” The Prime yelled and struggled against him, but Galvatron was calm now. He had what he wanted.

“What does it look like?” He asked, smug victory rising through him and coursing between them through the newly-forged bond. “I'm taking back what's mine.”

“Galvatron...” Rodimus groaned. “For once in your fragging life, will you leave me alone?!” It was meant to be a shout, but came out more as a plea. He slumped back, suddenly slack in Galvatron's grip. “Please, just let me go...I'm so tired...”

“No.” He squeezed Rodimus' shoulder, enjoying the grimace of pain that flashed across his captive's face. “I believe I've told you this before, Rodimus Prime. You're mine.”

“I'm fragging dead, Galvatron!”

“I'm not,” he said, serenely calm. “And yet here I am.”

Rodimus glared back, but there was no venom in it. “So now what?” He blinked as Galvatron sat back, releasing him, and he did not like that expression on the Decepticon warlord's features at all. It meant that he was going to get what he wanted and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it.

“Very well, Rodimus. I'll give you your choice. Pick a direction and start walking. Whichever way you go, I'll follow.”

“You're joking.” A steely gaze met Rodimus as he got up. “Oh Primus, you're not joking.” His shoulders sagged in defeat. “Magnus is gonna kill me,” he complained. “Twice, actually. Once for the armour and once for this.”

Galvatron chuckled. “He can try.”

Hand in hand, they walked back towards the light.


End file.
